Fate blinded
by zanyehuan
Summary: Charlie only meant to help his friend, during a simple case of disappearance, and yet everything in his world ends up changing.  NM


_My present is a blind oblivion absent of the clarity of the future, yet missing the naive hope of the past. I can not even fathom the simplest of notions of what I am to become, or if I would be given the ever hopeful gift of an opportunity to heal this blacken world. All I see is the beginning of a blind direction of a childish path that is a head of me. Yet I don't know if this naive path will plunge me into the forever shadows or deliver me onto the glorious providence. I don't know if after all the sacrifices I've made my fabled dream would have been deemed a reality, or become a long sorrowful memory. I never want to be that that spiteful, decrepit old drunk. He sits in the same bar stool day after day desperately trying to forget his misery within alcohol ridden stupors, attempting to repent some form of wonder that has been long taken from him. He searches the eyes of his melancholia created universe for one that still has those youthful so unaware eyes, eyes yet unblemished by this cold world. He finds them and forces his bleak and heavily broken eyes upon them, he cringes, as he remembers himself through those unsheathed eyes. He tells him of his once dreams of happiness, and of his unending hope and wonderment towards those aspirations, and how they so fervently repaid him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be he screams, as tears roll down his warn down and wrinkled face. The once boy filled with dreams, now stares back, eyes now removed of hope, now replaced with nothing but regret. I see this staunch reality come to fruition, that this is what I can so easily become, a fact that causes the deepest feeling of dread and despair within me. This harsh unyielding reality drags me into this immovable frozen hell of limbo, incapable to move forward yet unable to remove myself from the past. I feel my muscles painfully contract and tighten around me, I begin to struggle and panic trying to will myself out of this hell. I see people start to move around I scream help, yet they remain unaware of me, I struggle more I can hear my muscles rip around the pain becomes unbearable. I yell, plead, and beg for them to help me but they remain on their path, they only move faster , I feel my throat begin to bleed as voice wanes in strength as it fails me. I give up, as my tears tear blood stricken scars across my face, my screams turn into forgettable whimpers, I feel the world around begin to leave me. I abandon and yield all sense of life that I once held, yet I feel warmth, someone grasps my hands within theirs. I begin to feel my breath return to me as that touch becomes an embrace, I'm afraid to turn around in fear that this savior would become but feeble dream, and this indescribable warmth along with it. I hear my savior laugh and start to turn to me, her hands gently touch my face and wipe those scar ridden tears away. I stare into those green eyes of her, my savior, my reality, these eyes that give me everything I've ever dreamt of that hold and give strength. She smiles and stares at me, she pulls me to her and her lips meet mine, and she laugh, and whispers in my ear, "I love you, so move dummy, its time we go together."  
_

_Yes I'm blind to the end of what this path may lead me, but I am unafraid, for I do not walk it alone. For I walk this jagged and broken road with her whom I love endlessly. For no blind and presumptuous guess into the future could ever hold truth without her hand in mine. Because together our love love engulfs us, creates a world without judgment or fear of failure. A reality without pain or of the harsh coldness of a bitter and meek world, only us. An apart, our eyes eyes become open and aware, no longer will we be blind to this unyielding truth of a caustic world. No longer be able to shield each other within the others arms, but left abandoned and defenseless, upon the countless onslaught of bloody wounds given to us by a once forgotten reality. Be it five, ten, or even centuries, one of the greatest goals I can ever attempt is to be in forever love with my savior, my reality, my true one!  
_

_Within five years of writing this naive attempt of taming destiny, I will be married and living within the bosom of creativity, that of New York. We would have just graduated from college, both from NYU. We would have just bought the most smallest and insignificant apartment, but to us it would be a shimmering illuminating kingdom, holding the promise of a new life. We would be struggling with her __starting a life as a journalist, and I as lost writer. We have chosen lives of struggles and hardships but would remain ignorant of them. For we would have each other, and more importantly a love that could mask any pain of hunger, or heal any wound inflicted by this world_.

My hands rest gently on this once sweet and gentle paper, now like me has become aged and and torn. This dream soaked paper, drowned soundly within the pen strokes of a hope filled child. Now, only a shattered part of a long wanted, forsaken fragmented past. I was seventeen and asked a pregnant Rene to marry me, to which she softly said yes. I remember her crying as she said yes, but I wonder if those promising tears were of happiness or. God I'm really pathetic almost twenty years later, and this forgotten heart still remains shattered, seeking desperately to be healed. A chuckle escapes my lips, god I really wanted to be writer, hmm, I guess wasn't really that bad either. Yet the world is not as kind as the naive hopes of kid. A year later mom got sick, no one should see their mother slowly die in front of them, no one. I tried to work it out with Rene, but.

I still remember her walking out on me. It was raining as if the deep sky knew what was happening, already mourning. Rene picked her bags up, while all the time apologizing. As if those words meant a damn thing to me. My feet stood still on the hardwood floors, silent witness to these haunted memories of mine. The world slows as she walks to the the door. In front of her the rain runs desperately, so much that I can't see anything beyond it. Her steps quicken as she turns to the open door, white walls filled with pictures of our lives, do nothing to stop her. I remain nailed to these browned wooden floors, I cant breathe. She holds a covered Bella within her arms, I see her tiny reach out me, to her father, yet. Yet these god damn legs don't move, my brain keeps telling me to move, but my heart is to broken to allow it. Then it happens, she disappears through the veil.

My grief driven mind takes me back to my small, dusty attic. To the shadow covered boxes filled with to the cruel hidden tokens, that I am to weak to through away. Light shines through the small infant window in front of me, showering me with an unasked nor welcomed clarity. I'm an old man holding onto a twenty year old wish list, damn it. Ring, ring, once again the phone saves me, god that's even more depressing. I toss the worn leather like paper, back within its box, my gaze has yet to leave it, should I. Ring, ring, " damn it I'm coming", I scream at the phone.

My feet quickly climb down the attic stairs, not bothering to seal in the steps. I begin to run to the phone, ignoring the wariness in my knees. Running these memories steps to the phone. I almost trip on the stairs reaching the kitchen, until I reach the phone. " Hello, who is it", I ask out of breathe.

" Um, this Chief Swan"?

" Yes, now what do you want ", I ask angrily at being forced to jog down two flights of stairs.

"Oh I'm sorry Charlie, its Max Owens. We meet during a case three years ago," I remember the voice now, strong yet jovial. Hum, almost like a clown with a gun.

"Yeah, Max who are you".

"I'm well", I hear the discomfort in his voice" Well charlie I need help. Normally I wouldn't ask but, I'm calling in my favor".

" How bad is it Max"?

" Bad Charlie can you come as fast as you can, to Seattle"?


End file.
